30 Day Challenge Rules
by Mistress Mills
Summary: I found a 30 Day Challenge I'm planning on doing over the month of April. Will mainly focus on Cora and Hook from Once Upon A Time- what else would you expecting from me?
1. Rules

Okay, so found a 30 Day Challenge I'm interested in doing. I'll be starting on April 1st. I will attempt to update it on here the day after(starting April 2), but if I'm a few days behind, don't hate me for it. The days are listed below.

1\. Dystopian AU

2\. Half of your OTP dies

3\. Superhero AU

4\. Transformation

5\. Musical AU

6\. Genderbend

7\. Les Mis AU

8\. Rescue Mission

9\. OTP Drabble

10\. Birthday fic

11\. Crossover

12\. Makeover fic

13\. Ordinary day with OTP

14\. OTP with a child

15\. Free space

16\. NOTP Drabble

17\. OTP playing a board game

18\. High School AU

19\. Cliche

20\. Brotp Drabble

21\. Amnesia

22\. Halloween Drabble

23\. Pregnancy AU

24\. Real Life AU

25\. Proposal

26\. Personality Reversal

27\. No dialogue

28\. Breakup

29\. OTP via technology (texting, Facebook, Twitter, etc.)

30\. First kiss

If anyone else is interested in doing this 30 Day Challenge, feel free. Let me know in the comments if you're interested!


	2. Day One

**I don't own OUAT**

No one should ever have supreme power. And yet, somehow, she did. He knew that she had gained it through using the Dark One, but little more was known about how the Queen of Hearts came to power. All that was known was that she had it, and rather than eliminating those who she considered to be threats, she liked to collect them. Killian should have been proud to have been claimed by her, but he knew well enough that he wasn't there because he could harm her. He was there as her plaything, nothing more.

He lived in a relatively nice room of her castle. It had a view of the ocean, which was at once a comfort and a torture, so close yet unattainable. The room was once a suite for visiting nobles, but as she had killed off all of the nobility, it was free for his use. She had given him two servants, though they served at her bidding, not his. It was a comfortable life, and if the door was not perpetually locked, the windows guarded, perhaps he would have been comfortable with it.

Though he only left his room when it pleased her majesty, he knew from the whispers of the servants that the rooms next to him were occupied by others of the queen's toys. Though he was the most frequently used, her highness took pleasure in having them all there, using each when convenient. There was the dragon woman, always kept in enchanted chains which bound her to her human form. She was beautiful and powerful, but it seemed the queen had broken her. The woman was known to wail at odd hours of the night, woken from her nightmares.

On the other side of him was the Dark One. Though he was pleased by the monster's weakness, having fallen to a woman, he pitied the loneliness that must have overtaken the man. It was said that after Killian's arrival, the queen had fully abandoned the Dark One, keeping him in his cage and only taking him out to show off her own infinite power. Killian knew that the Dark One was father of her majesty's first child, a girl named Regina, who the servants spoke of reverently. It seemed the girl was kinder than her mother, a thing that seemed unthinkable after being raised by such a woman.

Killian himself was father to two of the queen's children, the youngest of whom was due to be born any day now. Not that they would ever know him. Neither of the queen's children knew their fathers, and unless they thought to bribe their servants, they would never know. The servants were the most free of anyone in the castle, despite the fact that her majesty held their hearts. They were frequently ignored by the queen, and could do whatever they wanted so long as it was inconspicuous.

He heard the door's latch open and immediately came to his feet. He had retained the scars from the lessons that had taught him this respect. In the doorway was a member of the royal guard followed by a servant who carried clothing more elegant than he had ever seen. It was made of similar material to the queen's wardrobe.

"Her Majesty wishes for you to dress." The man left, his bit done, but Killian knew that he stood waiting outside the door. There was no true privacy. He allowed the servant to dress him in the finery. Once dressed, the guard led him out of the room. He dared not speak a word. They were halfway to the queen's chambers, the only path he knew in the castle, when a voice cried out. The guard drew his sword and abandoned him where he stood, darting after the source of the cry.

For the first time in many years he has his freedom, yet he did not know what to do with it. The clothes he wore were worth enough that if he could get out of the castle, he could buy passage wherever he chose. Yet he stayed where he was, frozen in the face of this opportunity. A calloused hand covered his mouth, its partner holding the blade that rested against his throat.

"Who are you?" The words were whispered in his ear by a gruff yet unmistakably female voice. The hand was removed from his mouth, and he tried to think of what to say. His name was not what she wanted, but he doubted she would appreciate his position as the Queen's lover, when she was so clearly a rebel.

"I am one of her majesty's prisoners." The woman laughed. She took the blade from him throat, appearing in front of him. She was blonde, dressed in dirty pants and a ragged blouse that had clearly been mended gain and again.

"If that is how the Queen dresses her prisoners, it's no wonder why her subjects starve." He cursed his clothing, clothing that was so well made that he no doubt looked his part. The Queen's favored one, though the position earned him nothing. He had neither power nor dignity from the arrangement. Yet he had his life and his children, facts for which he was immensely grateful.

"Any ruler would use their money and let the peasants die. She is no different." He wasn't sure why he defended her. She had captured him, trapped him at her mercy. Yet, she had also given him a son. The woman before him gave him an odd look, but she put her sword away.

"Do you know where the other prisoners are?" He nodded, leading her back to the hall where his rooms were. They started at the room on the left, the dragon woman's room. It was curiously silent there. "And the keys?"

"I don't know. Do you think they tell the prisoners how to release themselves?" The woman scowled at him but took him at his word. She went over to the door, muttering under her breath. First, she lifted the latch, and then she touched the key hole. It glowed, and the door swung open. "Bloody hell. Another witch." He moved away from her as she entered the room. Magic had done enough bad for him to trust in her.

"Help me!" The irritated sound came from within the room where he noted she had gotten the dragon woman out of her chains. However, she was unconscious, blonde curls covering the floor. He looked at the witch warily and picked up the blonde. That done, the witch smiled to herself. "Where now?" He groaned.

"Two doors down." He followed her out the door to the Dark One's room, surprised to see that the door had not been locked. The room was empty of all but a spinning wheel in the center of the room that the Dark One perched over, eyes wild and thoughtless. This was not the demon who had killed his Milah, but a creature devoid of hope. "Rumplestiltskin." The creature looked up for just a moment when his name was spoken, but just a soon, he was looking at his wheel again.

"What did you say?" The blonde woman was edging towards the Dark One who seemed to take no notice of her coming towards him. When she was within a few inches of him, the beast hissed, wild eyes turning on her to warn her away.

"His name. Best not get too close…" Despite his misgivings with the woman, he did not wish to see another die at the Dark One's hand. "He's a monster. Leave him." The woman turned to look at him, but she did not step away.

"I was told to get the prisoners out safely." Her voice was fierce, not allowing for arguments. "Rumplestiltskin." Her voice wavered, but she seemed to grow more confident when he turned to look at her.

"Emma." The Dark One said it once, then grabbed her wrist. Though she looked terrified, she did not pull away. "Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma." He repeated it again and again, tightening his grip on her wrist until the woman's fear turned to pain.

"Emma." The voice came from behind Killian, a voice he knew all too well. "How nice it is to see you." He whipped around to see his Queen, huge with their child, standing in the doorway. Despite her pregnancy, she was powerful and terrifying. "I just met up with your mother. How nice it was to finally kill Eva's brat."

The Queen spoke the words calmly, but the woman- Emma-'s face dropped immediately. She wrenched her wrist out of the Dark One's grip, drawing her sword. Her Majesty laughed, a flick of her wrist making the sword disappear. She stepped forward and Killian went to the side of the room, setting down the dragon woman and staying out of the way. He wasn't sure what he wanted to happen, but felt certain that no matter what, one of the women he saw would die.

"My darling, you don't need that. I've been told that the child of Snow White had magic. I've been aching for a good fight." A ball of fire appeared in the Queen's palm, white hot and growing. Just as she threw it, Emma launched a ball of water which put out the flames. The Queen summoned another ball, this one dark and crackling with what appeared to be lightning. This one too launched at Emma, and she dove to the side, the ball grazing her leg. She screamed, and Killian could smell the burnt flesh. She was on the ground, cradling her leg and muttering under her breath.

"You can't heal it." The Queen was mocking her, laughing at the tears falling down the girl's face. This woman couldn't have been more than eighteen years old- a child, practically. Yet Her Majesty had never cared about hurting children before. She strode closer, not bothering to gather her magic about her. The child was down, and it would just take one blow to kill her for good. The Queen's fingers lightly grazed Emma's chin, and though Emma tried to look defiant, she was pathetic in comparison to the Queen of Hearts. "Once I kill you, Eva's line will be dead. And I can finally live in peace."

She knelt, taking her time looking at the child before shoving her hand through her chest, fingers wrapping around the girl's heart. When she tried to pull it out, however, her hand stuck. Her eyes widened in horror, just as Emma shoved a dagger through her chest. Killian let out a shout, suddenly realizing that with the death of his tormentor came the death of his child. Her hand fell out of Emma's chest, and Emma pushed her aside, nursing her own wounds. Killian ran to his Queen, pulling her onto his lap without noticing her blood staining his clothes. It was a quick death, and he had just one moment with her before she- and their unborn child- were gone.

He heard feet racing down the hall as Regina found them, crying out to her brother Aidan that she needed him. The siblings entered the room, staring at their mother, dead on the floor. Their eyes darted to their fathers, perfect strangers to them, as Emma bled out behind them. The room smelled so strongly of blood that it seemed all of the air had been replaced with it. There was nothing to say.

The rebellion had failed to take over the castle, but had succeeded in taking down the Queen of Hearts. Regina took over the throne, vowing to be kinder than her mother, but fixated on eliminating all who had been involved in the killing of her. Killian's execution was planned for the day of the coronation, to show what happened to those who harmed her family. Aidan held his sister on the day, and the last thing Killian heard was his son ordering his beheading. There was no way out of this torture. But death came quickly enough, and with it, peace. He was free of this world. That was the best he could hope for.


	3. Day Two

**I don't own OUAT**

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. They had always known that sooner or later, they would part ways. They had even known that the way they parted may have been through death, but he had never expected it to be hers. He remembered when they were making the terms of their 'arrangement', as she so often liked to call it. What would happen if one of them didn't come out of it alive. He smiled as he remembered her laughing. "I say 'one of us' like it could possibly be me". She had been so confident. And why shouldn't she be?

Cora Mills was a survivor. He knew that she hadn't started as royalty, something that he had liked about her. Royals weren't to be trusted; they had done too much to hurt him. But her? She had risen from the one that the royals mocked to the one that they feared. He knew that she had done terrible things to get where she was. He knew that she would not be satisfied with the amount of power she had. She would always want more. And yet, despite all of that, he wanted her. He wanted to give her everything. And yet somehow it hadn't worked out how they planned it.

They had said that whomever survived would kill the Dark One. Without one another for protection, taking that power would be necessary. He had often worried that she would kill him just for the satisfaction of killing Rumplestiltskin, her lost lover. But instead he was here, stuck in a world where he saw the damn crocodile every single day, unable to kill the man. He could not fulfill that end of their deal. If he had died, she would have finished the task. Gladly, no doubt. But he could not fulfill her wishes. She had finally stopped doubting him, and this was how he fulfilled her trust.

He could not even visit her. Regina did not trust anyone in town to visit the grave after the reactions to her mother's death. There had been celebrations for the death of such a terrible villain, and no one gave a thought to how Regina might miss her mother. The heroes were good at that. They dehumanized their enemies until they felt that no one could possibly protest- and then they cut them down, gladly and with satisfaction. They were the true villains.

Hook just wanted to see her once more, but he knew that seeing such a strong woman so weak would only destroy his image of her. His mind supplied him with the image of her in her burial robe from when they had tricked Regina. He took hope from it, because then she had not truly died. Was it so much to hope that this too was a trick? He waited weeks for her, hoping that some day she would appear. But it didn't happen. He returned to doing what he was best at- only thinking of himself. To do otherwise was too painful.


	4. Day Three

**I don't own OUAT**

"Mom! Good always wins." Regina and Henry were watching The Avengers. She believed that Loki would win, but her ever-faithful son backed the heroes, as he always did.

"They aren't exactly _good_. Iron Man is selfish, the Hulk has no control, and they never seem to be able to get along. Snow and her followers never fought that much." Her son just groaned, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. He picked up the remote, pausing the movie and turning to look at his mother.

"But they don't have powers. The Avengers aren't 'heroes' like Snow White and Prince Charming. They're _superheroes_ like you and Emma. Superheroes fight all the time." Regina wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she turned the movie back on, her mind still trying to figure it out. Her son finally thought of her as a hero? And not just a hero, but a superhero.

She had always spoiled her son. Her mother had told her once that she would never have children, so Henry was everything to her. He was her whole world, and she knew that she would do anything for him. Once he started going to school, however, he started asking her for money to buy comic books. She thought it was harmless at first, but soon enough her son was raving about how wonderful heroes were. It wasn't so bad for a while, because though her enjoyed the stories, he loved her. Her son hugged her and told her that he loved her each night. He was _her_ child.

But then came The Book. Once he found it, he immediately put everyone into the comic book archetypes he had grown up on. There were innocents and heroes and villains. He read that she was the Evil Queen, and immediately it clicked in his head that she was wrong in every way. She was not just a villain but a super villain. That was when she began to lose him. He hid from her kisses and gave her mistrustful looks. Comic books had taught him to see only good and evil. Henry didn't believe in shades of gray.

Emma had always been his favorite superhero. Regina had once caught him drawing his birth mother that way. He had dressed her in a leather suit, the bright red material contrasting starkly with perfect gold hair blowing back in the wind. It frustrated Regina to no end. Emma had come and taken over as his mother instantly. Henry trusted her completely and was completely in awe of a woman who had done nothing to deserve it. The only truly wonderful thing Emma had done before coming to Storybrooke was bring Henry into the world.

When the movie ended, she sent him up to bed. He kissed her on the cheek before going, mocking her light-heartedly that his heroes had won. She smiled, letting him have his victory now, because she had finally won hers. Her son thought she was a hero. What more could she ask for?

* * *

The next day, his comment stayed in her mind. Henry had continued working at Gold's shop, because though it was a small store, it was full of magic. The objects tended to move on their own, returning to a state of disorder immediately after being fixed. Belle needed the help keeping everything in line. Henry came in to help Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, earning a bit of money on the side. Regina took advantage of this, taking the opportunity to dig through Henry's room, searching for the old pictures he had drawn of Emma Swan.

She found it under a stack of shirts inside his dresser. Looking down at the image, she smiled. He was actually very good. She picked up the picture and found under it another image, one that seemed to be of her. He had put her in a black leather suit, similar to Emma's but for the addition of a dark purple cape. She couldn't help the smile that grew on her face when she looked at it, taking both drawings with her.

Emma was at the sheriff's station when Regina found her, a bear claw halfway to her mouth. Seeing Regina enter, she put it down, wiping her fingers off on her jeans. "Regina. What are you doing here?" Already, Emma was on her feet, fastening her gun inside its holster.

"Nothing's wrong." She visibly relaxed, replacing the gun in her hand with the neglected doughnut. "I wanted to… show you something that Henry drew."

Emma finished the doughnut quickly, reaching for the picture. At a scowl from Regina, she once again wiped her fingers on her pants, 'cleaning' them before taking the pictures.

"What's this?" She looked down at two pictures of superheroes. They were pretty good, but she didn't see why Regina felt the need to show them to her. She was in the middle of some paperwork that Regina herself had assigned to her that was far lengthier than need be.

"Superheroes. Apparently Henry believes that's what we are." Regina smiled, pointing the blonde superhero out to the oblivious woman. She couldn't keep her eyes off of the one that had been drawn of her. She didn't need Emma's approval or Snow's for her to know that she had finally reached redemption. The evidence was here in her son finally accepting her.

* * *

Rumors spread quickly around town , and these rumors more than most. Grumpy swore that a woman in red flew him home after a late night drinking. This would have been dismissed if not for Archie, who said that Pongo had been rescued from Cruella by a woman in a purple cape. No one seemed to know who these mysterious women were, and the sheriff's station didn't seem interested in the bizarre turn of events. Henry, who had found his missing drawings in the mayor's office, had finally gone quiet when asked his opinion on how to figure the mystery out. The town saviors became something of a myth- an oddity even in their impossible town.


End file.
